Help Me
by thealanawest
Summary: Okay, this is the first fanfiction I've ever published :/ I'd appreciate all the help I can get! Something has happened to Angela and it's up to Booth to help Brennan get her life back on track again. Will his persistence pay off, or will she end up breaking his heart?
1. Chapter 1

He looked into the eyes that were usually so bright and alluring and the lack of light terrified him. He knew that he was her go-to guy, her best friend, her 'partner', the love of her life, the only one she trusted so implicitly. But this was something totally different. He couldn't hold her and make the hurt go away. He couldn't kiss away the sadness in those eyes. He couldn't bring Angela back.

Angela Montenegro had saved her. She had grown so used to being alone that when someone actually began to care about where she was every second of every day, she pushed it away. She worked so hard to keep from loving someone like a sister because the only family she ever knew abandoned her. But Angela had been so persistent. Her patience for her hesitancy was endless and eventually she began to appreciate Angela's company and even crave the girl talks. She had gotten to the point where she couldn't imagine life without the woman who had carried her through so many hard times. And now she had to.

He cradled her softly as her shallow, hitched breathing slowed into something semi-even. He exhaled in relief as her eyes closed and the tears that had been almost non-stop for the past four days dried on her pink cheeks. He brushed the sweaty, stray strands of hair away from her face and couldn't help but think that even in her darkest moments, she was so incredibly beautiful. Her face was like a child's, innocent and vulnerable. He couldn't bring himself to move an inch, so he lay his head back on the black leather couch and drifted off into unconsciousness.

It was almost too surreal at first. The shriek didn't even register at first. Could that horrible noise really be coming from her own throat? She watched as the red Mustang with the only-letters liscence plate slammed into her best friend, her sister. Angela's body flew across the hood of the car and landed in a jumbled heap. Her body was in a position that would be practically impossible without the breaking of many bones. Her head was bent crooked and the ghost of a smile over a shared joke with her best friend still etched on her face.

She didn't speak for weeks. Not a single word passed between her lips. No amount of begging from him would persuade her. She was determined that if Angela would never speak again, neither would she. "Bones," he started on a bleak day about two weeks after she was gone, "she wouldn't want you to live like this. She'd want you to be there for Christine, for me, for all of those lost souls that you save every day. She'd want you to go after the drunk man who caused this. She'd want you to save her like she saved you." Her head snapped up at the last comment and his heart dropped as he realized his mistake. He braced himself for an angry ranting, but what he actually got was much worse. Her clear blue eyes clouded and filled with those tears that never seemed to really go away. She let out a whimper, the first sound of pain she'd allowed herself thus far. His heart ached for her. He gently put his hand on her face and whispered soothing nonsense into her ear until she leaned against him. Her suffering was silent, the cries of someone who had kept it all bottled in too long. It was hours before her eyes ran dry and the remnants of her sorrow lay in puddles on his shoulders.

The first words that escaped those precious pink lips of hers were, "Maybe she's just hiding." His jaw dropped and before he spun around to face her, he took a moment to compose his features. "Bones…" he said, closing his eyes as his heart broke at the sound of her voice. "Booth, please. Help me…" She whispered softly, almost to herself. She wore an old ratty t-shirt of his with some obscure faded baseball team name on the front and her favorite plaid pajama bottoms. It seemed as though the world slowed down and he could analyze every little movement she made. Her arms hung useless at her sides, her body looked like it was caving and curling in on itself. But her eyes were the worst part. They were sunken and completely hollow. They were full of some impenetrable sadness that he couldn't bear to look at another second. He dropped the glass he was holding and practically sprinted over to her. "Oh, Temperance, please. I'll do anything. Tell me what to do." He pleaded with her basically lifeless form. Her lower lip quivered with the effort of holding back the tears but for the first time in almost a month, she held her head up high and looked him squarely in the eyes. "Just hold me," she said, her voice cracking on the last syllable. He picked her up in his strong, reassuring arms and what little composure she had managed before shattered. Her cries were different this time. Instead of that silent shaking of the shoulders, they were an inch away from screaming. Tears fell from his eyes as he rocked her back and forth, trying to squeeze the hurt out of her and knowing he couldn't killed him. He just held her and held her and held her, not willing to do anything less than she asked. After her sobbing quieted, he whispered hesitantly, "Bones?" She didn't look up at him, instead burying her face deeper into his chest and whispered back, almost unintelligible, "I just needed to get it out."

After that, she resumed that cold, analytical exterior that she was reminiscent of her first years at the Jeffersonian, before meeting him. That scared him almost as much as the emotional breaking. She never smiled. That broke his own heart almost as much as watching her make a brave attempt at a watery smile. Her eyes were more dead than before, if that was even possible. It was like she had just given up. She gave one last huge leap of faith when she had that breakdown, but now she was determined not to let anything get into her heart. And he was just as determined to stay in it.


	2. Chapter 2

Her life was in his hands. She knew that now. She'd avoided the fact for as long as she could, but she couldn't ignore it any longer. He had to be the one to save her and she had to somehow let him know that. But she couldn't even think straight for five minutes at a time. Her work was sloppy and everyone could tell she wasn't herself. Even Hodgins was dealing with Angie's death better than she was. Oh, great. Here came the waterworks. She needed to talk to him. And soon.

"Bones? Hey, where are you, honey?" He walked into the lab casually, and looked around, his eyes searching for her form. He saw Cam through her office door, head in her hands. He saw Hodgins at his lab desk, eyes red rimmed, hands shaking. But she was nowhere to be found. He started panicking, his heart beating faster and faster and he searched frantically. "Hodgins? HODGINS?! Where's Bones?" he yelled. "Hey, Booth. Um, calm down, man. She just went out to get some Thai food." Hodgins' face actually relaxed into a little smile. "Wh...whaa?" That was his job. He was the man, he got the food. Simple as that.

Just then, she walked in. He breathed a sigh of relief when he watched her walk through those doors. "Okay, she's safe." he thought, wanting to laugh at his own terror. She was fine. She'd be fine. He just needed to help her through it. And he'd be there no matter what.

"Hi, Bones." he said, shooting a little smile her way. "Hi." she said, her voice cracking with lack of use. She felt so small and vulnerable when he looked at her like that. She used to hate it, but it had started to grow on her. Actually, right now, it was just what she needed. His warm brown eyes showed love mixed with concern and she needed him to feel that way. She didn't know how she'd ever gotten through anything without him. Oh... Angela. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and his happy eyes clouded and in an instant he was by her side. His big hands gripped the sides of her arms, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to bring her back to reality. "I'm sorry, I've got to go." she said. She slipped out from under him and basically sprinted through the doors she came from only seconds before. He was left standing there openmouthed, emptyhanded.

"Sweets, I know I don't usually come to you, but this is different..." he started off. The young psychologist smiled at his discomfort. "Hey, Agent Booth, I understand. Dr. Brennan is going through a rough emotional time. She just watched her best friend die and she doesn't understand those emotions that are most certainly ripping her heart apart." Sweets replied and sat back to watch his reaction. His eyebrows pushed together and his mouth turned down into a frown. "How do I help her?" he finally said, after a long, musing silence. "Has she asked you for anything?" Sweets replied, struggling himself with the question. Dr. Brennan did not usually need help from anyone. "She...she wanted me to hold her." The agony was so obvious in his eyes and in his whispered response that even Sweets was surprised. He didn't ever share his own feelings but the way she was hurting changed everything. It was killing him. His heart was breaking just as much as hers was.


	3. Chapter 3

He was sitting on the tan leather couch in their little house when she walked through the front door, stomping her boots on the front rug to get the snow off. "Booth?" she asked, trying to keep her voice under control. She hated that she wasn't even granted that little luxury. She couldn't even pretend with her _words _that she was alright. Booth was there in a second. He must have practically sprinted to her, he was breathing hard and his cheeks were flushed pink. She touched the side of his face with a small smile and he had to hold himself in place so he didn't jump back in surprise. Was his Bones back?

"How was work without me?" he joked, turning his head back to look at her as she followed him into the kitchen. Again, he was awarded with that smile. "Fairly boring, actually. Dr. Saroyan and I were unable to identify any of the bones in Limbo which is expected considering the time we worked, but disappointing nonetheless." He grinned at her use of "big science-y" words and began to prepare a dinner for two. He kept her talking for almost two hours about bones and anthropology and asdfqporigthgology and qurighhaddjghology and actually learned a thing or two. Her eyes began to droop and before he knew it, her head was on the table and her breathing was deep and even. He couldn't keep the smile off his face now; she was actually talking to him and not about how broken she felt. He watched her for a few minutes, marveling at her beauty. Her hair was falling out of its careful ponytail and her face was shrouded in shadow. He couldn't see her eyes, but he had looked into them so many times that they were memorized, ingrained in his brain. When he picked her up, hoping not to wake her, she stirred ever so slightly in his arms and put her own arm around his neck. He pulled her as close to his chest as he possibly could and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't wake up. He gently put her down and tucked the covers around her small form, kissing her forehead before standing in the doorway and turning off the light.

They were walking arm in arm down a dimly lit hallway at the Jeffersonian. Her dark curls bounced in laughter and face split into a smile. Hodgins trailed behind her as he always did. "Oh, sweetie, I knew you and Booth would be perfect together! You should have listened to me from the beginning." she said with an eye roll. She shrugged it off and waited for Angela's giggles to subside before she said, "Ange, I hope you know how much I..." her soft confession was interrupted by the screeching of a car's tires as a black sedan broke through the nearest door of the lab. She knew what would happen next. The car would smash into the dark haired beauty and Angela's body would fly across the room and land in a crumpled heap. She couldn't watch it again, but she couldn't force her eyes away. As soon as the body who was her best friend was an unmoving, mangled corpse, she woke up, sweat beading at her forehead, legs tangled in the sheets, screaming.

The same thing happened every night at roughly the same time. It had become routine. She'd toss and turn in her sleep, but it was impossible for him to wake her up before the screaming part happened. He had tried endlessly and had failed every time. She would up sobbing against his chest and he held her as the same tears flowed silently down his own cheeks. He didn't know how much longer they could keep this up.

Tonight was different. She held her scream in her mouth and he didn't even move an inch. Once the terror and heartache washed away, she tried to sleep but ended up laying for hours, remembering Angie's face as she realized what was happening. She wiggled as close as she could to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in his neck. She wasn't usually THIS needy, even if she watched her best friend die. But being close to him was the only thing that made the ache in her heart go away. She eventually drifted off, without realizing that he was awake the whole time, trying to supress his tears at her bravery.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day started normally. She was up first and when his eyes opened, he realized she had accidentally left the bathroom door and he could see her soft form behind the shower curtain. He felt the usual burst of what can only be described as butterflies in his stomach whenever he saw her like this, but this time they were accompanied by an ache in his chest. The memories of the night before flew back into his head. He saw her tear-stained cheeks and her frantic attempts to keep her pain inside, letting only an occasional whimper to escape. This WAS an improvement, however small. Before, she couldn't even function when she had her nightmares and he'd stay up with her for hours. Now, she had recognized as a dream and nothing else. She wasn't reliving the moments again, she was just being plagued by a broken subconscious.

"Hi, Bones." he said as he stepped into the shower with her. She turned around in surprise, arms flying up to protect. He stepped back out, "Oh, sorry... Um, I can go...?" he said, hesitancy overflowing his voice. She shook her head and gave him a smile, a small one, but one that reached her eyes nonetheless. He recognized this as another sign of her becoming more like herself. Her eyes had lost most of the guarded look that had haunted them the past few days. He could feel the tension leaving his shoulders and his relief was almost palpable as he pulled her close and hummed a little song.

She had returned to work. She didn't smile as often as she used to. He didn't walk to her office to find the door closed and eavesdrop on her little giggles as she and Angela had their girl talk. Her eyes didn't have their usual sparkle. She would often get a blank look on her face and his heart would clench when he realized that she was thinking about her again. Instead, she would smile softly as she passed Angela's office and remembered the woman who had shown her what love was. She would softly run her fingers over the photos of the two best friends with their arms slung around the shoulders, identical grins on their faces. She would tell him about their early friendship, how Angela had made her go dancing at the clubs and kept her from retreating back into her shell every time a man came her way. She would cry sometimes, and he would cry with her. He had done it. He had saved her. And their relationship was as strong as ever.


End file.
